Boxed Set: Traitorous Heart Volumes 1-6 (The Traitorous Heart Series) (23 page)

BOOK: Boxed Set: Traitorous Heart Volumes 1-6 (The Traitorous Heart Series)
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“Holy shit! What if we change our minds?”

Cage shrugged. “If you’re serious enough to find out about the club and want someone to vouch for you, they believe you’ll follow through. Most fantasies start at ten thousand and can go up to a hundred thousand.” He glanced out the window. “At least that’s what he said.”

I leaned back in my seat. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

“I’ll bill some of it to the firm and I can cover the rest,” Cage said. “But I need you to say the words.”

“What words?”

“Say, Cage, I promise I won’t freak out.”

“I’m not sure I can promise you that, Cage.”

“I understand, I do, but if we go undercover freaking out could get us in hot water. So at least promise you won’t freak out until we’re safely out of that place. Is that doable?”

“Yes.”

“Say it, then.”

“Cage, I promise I won’t freak out until it’s safe. Does that work?”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” He smiled.

“Shit,” I swore again.

Cage chuckled. “Seriously.” 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 3

Katie

 

 

 

The lim
o
stopped in front of my brownstone. The driver came around and opened the door.

“I’ll walk you up.” Cage climbed out after me.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“If you knew my mother you wouldn’t be saying that.” He grimaced and I laughed.

“Okay. Thanks.” I headed to the entrance and was about to open the door when someone pushed it open, knocking it into my forehead.

“Ouch.” Tears sprang to my eyes.

“Hey. Watch where you’re going.” Cage grabbed the person on the shoulder, but the person shrugged him off.

“It’s fine.” I sighed, pulling the door wider. “Let’s get inside.” The air was cold and I wasn’t wearing a coat.

Cage cast his eyes back and forth between the person in the dark hooded coat and me. It was hard to tell if it was a man for sure, but the person’s gait and the way the black workout bag was draped across the body suggested male.

“Come on.”

Cage complied.  We walked the three floors up, then down the hall to my apartment. I took the key from my purse and went to put it in the lock, but the door came open. It hadn’t been shut all the way.

Cage gave me a worried look. “Did you lock it before you left?”

I thought about it. “I think so.” I’d had two bottles of wine before I left for The Attic. It was possible I didn’t.

“Stay behind me.” Cage pulled the edges of his red shirt from his pants and lifted a gun from the waistband.

“Whoa. You been carrying that the whole time? Like when we were kissing?” The idea he packed a gun terrified me. What if it accidentally went off? What if he got mad and didn’t know what he was doing?

Cage didn’t answer, but stepped inside my apartment. He moved with keen precision, his gun steady as he stepped between the living room and the kitchen, making his way to the hall. It certainly appeared that he knew what he was doing.

“Cage,” I whispered, following him inside.

He put a finger to his mouth. “Stay there. Don’t move.”

I nodded. My apartment was dark, but not completely. The light from the water dispenser on the fridge and slivers of moonlight made it possible to see enough to make out where everything was. The bit of light also made it easy to see Cage’s lithe form move between my kitchen and living room and disappear down the hall. Fear rose from my stomach and into my throat. I wanted to call out, ask where he was, but I resisted.

After several long minutes Cage reappeared, turning on the light switch in the hall.  “No one here but us, Dandelion. Hit the lights, would you?”

The kitchen light was to the left of the door. I switched it on. The kitchen looked like someone had torn through it. Cupboards were opened, as were the drawers.

“Did you do this?” Cage asked, shutting cupboards and doors as he moved around the small kitchen.

“No.” My fear grew. Someone had been in my apartment.

Cage tucked his gun into the waist of his pants. “The bedrooms and bathroom look like they’d been torn though as well. Feeling up to checking them out?”

“Sure.” I followed him into Birdy’s room. It’d already been a mess. Now it was worse. Her dresser drawers were open and the top mattress had been pushed onto its side and was leaning haphazardly over the box springs.

The first thing I thought of was the journals. I ran over. “They’re gone.” I covered my mouth, upset I hadn’t read them when I had the chance. Obviously there was something important within the pages.

“What are?” Cage asked.

I told him about the journals. He sighed. “Yeah, that sucks.” He squeezed my arm. “Want to check the other rooms?”

I followed him into my room. My mattress had been yanked off the box springs and leaned against the wall. I went to my dresser and then, when I didn’t see anything missing, I checked my closet. “Nothing seems to be missing.” I checked the bathroom. Drawers were opened and the shower curtain had been ripped down, but everything still seemed to be there. “The only thing missing is the journals.”

Cage nodded. Together we fixed my bed as well as Birdy’s. “We’ll get you a new shower curtain tomorrow.”

I crossed my arms as we made our way back to the living room. “You don’t need to do that.” I sat on the couch, hugging one of Birdy’s crazy pillows to my chest.

“Let me get you a drink.”

I heard the fridge open. There was more than a dozen bottles of water inside and some wine. That was pretty much all we kept in there, other than maybe yogurt, cheese, fruit, and the occasional leftover pasta. It wasn’t hard to spot the water; they were on the top shelf. But I didn’t hear the fridge close. Cage appeared frozen. He stared into the fridge.

A string of fear worked its way through my chest and pulled. “What’s wrong? Don’t you see the water?” I walked over slowly, keeping the pillow cupped to my chest tightly.

“Stay back, Dandelion. You don’t want to see this.”

“Like hell.” No one told me what to do. I glanced inside the fridge. There was something red, like a thick hunk of meat, sitting on top of the water bottles. Red juices of some kind had dripped from the thing and puddled under the water. There was a piece of paper jabbed into the meat, held there by a fork. “What is that?”

“You didn’t do this, right?” Cage kept his voice low, even.

“No way.” I went to reach inside and move it, but Cage pushed my hands away. “Don’t touch it. Fingerprints.” His bright eyes bored into mine. “Do you have any tongs?”

“Yeah.” I went to the drawer where we kept our kitchen utensils and pulled out a metal set. “Here.”

“Get a serving platter. Something clean.”

I opened the cupboard and pulled out the platter we used for wine and cheese tasting parties. “Got it.”

He used the tongs, lifted the thing, and placed it on the platter. The paper had been soaked in blood, but it was still easy to read the words.

Slutty Bitch!

You ripped out Reid’s heart long before I did.

But the deviant fucker deserved it. You all deserve it.

Dandelion Katelyn Jayne, you’re next.

There were several names listed on the paper, including mine, Griffin’s, Birdy’s, Brian’s—the drummer in Griffin’s band—as well as Reid’s mom’s and dad’s.

“Do you think that’s Reid’s heart?” My stomach started to roll.

“There’s one way to find out.” Cage took out his phone and dialed 911. When he hung up, he said, “Hey, you doing all right?”

“No. As a matter of fact, I’m not.”

“Is there someone you can call?” Cage pulled me into an embrace.

I clung to him, knowing I could call my parents. They lived in Albany and would come if I asked, but it would take a while. And really, what would telling them accomplish? Nothing. My mom would worry and drink too much. My dad would ask too many questions, searching for answers I didn’t have. Yet. 

“My parents live in Albany. They’d come down, but I’d rather keep them as far from this as possible.” I wiped my eyes, suddenly realizing I’d been crying.

“I understand. Maybe you should go stay with them, though. We can’t take this threat lightly.”

I pushed away, glaring. “Fuck you. Fuck that note. I’m not a breakable little child and I’m not going to let some asshole scare me away.” I tossed the pillow on the couch. “I’m going to figure out who’s doing this. Besides,” I smiled, “this note proves Birdy didn’t kill Reid.” As afraid and pissed as I was, that one piece of information made up for it. “They have to let her out now.”

Cage seemed to mull it over. “It’s definitely new evidence. There’s a possibility she’ll be set free. But…” He trailed off, rubbing his hands over his short brown hair. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“My guess is, unless they find DNA evidence to prove someone other than Birdy touched this heart or the fork and paper, then the prosecution will claim Birdy put someone up to this, possibly even you, in a sad attempt to gain her freedom. With all the evidence pointing at her, the judge is likely to agree.”

My breathing came faster. It felt like a panic attack. But fuck that. “Son of a bitch.” It made sense. It was what I would do.

“I know.”

There was a knock at the door. I checked through the peephole. It was the police. I let them in. They took our statements, packaged up the evidence, promised to keep an eye on the place, and left. When they were gone, I fell onto the couch. It was nearly five in the morning and I hadn’t been to sleep yet. Exhaustion was taking over.

“Will you be okay sleeping here?”

The answer to that question was a big fat no, but I nodded. “Yeah.” My voice wavered, exposing the lie.

“That’s it. Pack a bag. You’re going to come stay with me for a while.”

“No. They are not kicking me out of my apartment.” Surely he could understand that. My life was being flipped on its ass. I needed to keep something normal. “I’ll add an extra lock.”

“This isn’t up for fucking negotiation.” He pushed past me. “Get a bag, fill it with what you think you’ll need, and then get your ass downstairs.” His blue eyes gleamed with anger.

“Since when did you become the boss of me, Cage?”

His jaws clenched tight, as did his fists. He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I barely know you. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like the idea of you sleeping here alone.”

“I’ll be good here. Besides, it’s nearly daylight. I’ll be fine at least until tonight.” I fell onto the couch, closing my eyes. They burned and I rubbed at them. “I’m just so tired.”

“Fine.”

I heard the contained fury in his voice. It wasn’t fine. It was killing him that I wasn’t doing what he wanted, but he could suck it. Everyone could. I needed some sleep.

The door opened. “Lock this behind me. I’ll be back later to discuss what we want to do next.”

“Okay.” He was letting me have my way. The least I could do was agree to him checking on me. “What are you going to do?” I peeled open my eyes, sitting up.

“I’m going to submit the paperwork describing the new evidence and ask that Birdy be released. It’s a long shot, but we might get lucky.” Cage looked fierce. He didn’t look like he hadn’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours; in fact, he reminded me of a warrior. One well dressed and ready for action in the modern world.

I smiled. “Sounds good.”

When he was gone I locked the door, took off my clothes, and fell into bed. I think I was unconscious before my eyes closed.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 4

Griffin

 

 

 

I pace
d
my apartment and wondered for the thousandth time how the hell Katie found out about Nichole. Again, I went over the night. Nichole said she was coming to The Attic, but I hadn’t seen her there. My guess was she’d become distracted by a pretty boy and decided to spend her night with him.

I’d been more than thrilled she hadn’t shown. But maybe she had. What else could explain Katie finding out about Nichole?

I texted her.
Did you fucking say anything about us tonight?
I knew giving Nichole any kind of attention was a bad idea, but I didn’t have a choice. I needed to find out exactly what Katie knew before I said another word to her.

Nichole texted back.
Hey Griffy. I may have mentioned something about our night to a doe-eyed girl who seemed hopelessly in love with you. I figured I was doing you a favor. She wasn’t your type.

Mother fucking shit.
What did you say?

Why, Griffy, I told her you and I fucked. Was I bad? Do you need to punish me? I can think of all sorts of ways.

I turned off my phone and tossed it on the bedside table. My relationship with Katie was over—not that it ever really began. I knew I should be thrilled. I’d just dodged a possible serious bullet. My feelings for Katie didn’t fit into my plan. I was leaving in a few days to L.A., would likely sign a contract, and then my already crazy life would get crazier. There’d be endless hours in the recording studio. PR events. Tours. It would be nonstop busy. I didn’t have time for a serious relationship. Not now. Maybe not ever.

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